Written by Bartholomew Barker

 

 Standing amid the smoldering wreckage

of my life with just a few scratches

I wonder how I got so lucky

 

Somehow I survived a childhood

of sadistic schoolyard bullies

and teenage double-dog-dares

 

While so many of my colleagues and lovers

are still trying to dig out from the debris

of racist cops and handsy bosses

 

We’ve all suffered losses

of friends and sanity

of limbs and memory

 

and the belief

that it all happened

for some reason

 

But there’s no higher purpose

we’re just the unlucky survivors

left behind to clean up the mess

 

Text © Bartholomew Barker

 

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